Liebe Ist Der Krieg
by ForeverandNevermore
Summary: Love Is the War." Two men run Millenium; two men charismatic in their own ways. So charismatic, they find love easily. The problem is - it's with each other. MajorXDok, from 1941 to present day.


**Buchenwald, Germany - 1941**

"_Messes are a sign of active minds."_

Sturmbannführer Montana Max repeated this to himself several times as he walked through the doors. The room was filthy, splatters of blood became a half-done paint job on the concrete walls. Hardly the surroundings for a genius. However, a small voice in his head whispered, 'Didn't Heinrich Himmler start out slaughtering chickens?'

Still, he smiled at the bloodshed.

Organs in jars decayed slowly, giving the lab the scent of death, the pungent smell of decomposition. Some body parts were preserved, some with timers on them, and some with labels. The Major squinted his eyes to see one which was pasted on a pancreas; _'Karin Schwartz, 15, 3/9/39, Weimar.' _It was all very meticulous, sorted first by date, then gender, age, location,and name. The sheer quantity of the jars seemed infinite, and they stretched further than he could see, down into the depths of shadow. The room was lit by a single bulb, swinging to the rhythm of the visitor's footsteps. Under the flickering light, the bodies lay on a flat table, steel instruments littering the vivisected corpses.

"_What are you doing here?"_

The voice was a hoards, gravelly tone of tenor, like it had been unused for quite some time. Perfect German, with a touch of a Polish accent, and just a hint of a Russian one, mixed with the overtone of a Berliner. There was a strong intelligent air to it, a type of leadership that was not from brute strength, nor God – nor Führer – given right, but from climbing up the ladder, step by brutal, bloody step.

"_I am looking for a Dr. Napyeer." _The Sturmbannführer's voice was nasally in contrast, and the man, hailing from Munich, turned to see what lightly brushed his trenchcoat, frowning disdainfully at the rusty red stain it left on the ivory cloth.

"Ach, dann Guten Tag." The voice in the shadows continued, _"I am Doctor Avondale Napyeer II."_

"Guten Tag. _A pleasure to meet you."_

The man, now known as Dr. Napyeer, switched on another light, bowing. He was tall, obscenely so, about six and a half feet. Immediately at the Major's eye level was the coat, a long trench not unlike his own, though his was a suit-coat, and the Doktor's was more suited for a lab, made obvious by the stains of countless experiments, splatters of blood that rivaled the ones on the walls in their complexity and number. Too, stained, were his shoes, a ratty brown leather. The little bit of his pants that showed under the coat were similar, brown, torn, and bloodstained, and with the distinct, bloody, unwashed smell that lingered about him. His eyes traveling up, the major noticed he was slim, emaciated, to say the least, his ribs obviously visible from even outside his jacket. His frame was feminine, with sloping shoulders and an elegantly long neck. His face, too was elongated, as thin and ghostly pale as the rest of him. A pair of spectacles, a large, perfect circle, hid his eyes, with seemed to be a haunting pale blue. His hair was a golden blond, though a bit pale, compared to the Major's own hair, an was tied in a messy ponytail that reached his shoulder blades. Montana detected movement, and looked down to see the man's fingers, twitching, sheathed by long white gloves that, too, were covered in bodily fluid. His pinky finger looked strangely large, and ripped at the seam. Between his index and middle fingers, a bloody scalpel glimmered in the light. Hardly the appearance of a total genius– more similar to a serial killing bum. Quite a contrast to the Sturmbannführer who looked at him.

The man shuffled a bit, his SS uniform groaning under the stress of his stomach- he had just eaten generously, and the uniform already fit like a glove. The Major lightly draped the aforementioned white jacket around his shoulders, whether for warmth or style, though, it was unknown to even the man himself. Golden eyes gazed from behind round glasses, and a tuft of dirty blond hair, the only part of his hair not slicked back, grazed the glass above his right eye. He was short in comparison to the tall man, only about five foot nine. It seemed, almost, there was a mistake that the two would meet, considering the immense differences.

"_I wasn't expecting an apprentice of Hans Reiter to be in such drab surroundings, Doktor." _The scientist twitched at the statement. _"But where are my manners? I doubt you treat first meetings any different in Buchenwald. I am Sturmbannführer Montana Max; head of Special Order 666."_

"_Welcome to Buchenwald, mein Major." _Napyeer smiled, an expression that looked odd on his face. _"As I have already introduced myself, I must, on behalf of our entire faction of doctors, thank you generously for your service. Now, if I may inquire, why are you in my laboratory?" _

"_Ah, right, to the point." _Montana pulled up a seat at the operating table, paying no mind to the bodies of the young woman and small boy. _"Such a man of science does not dabble with petty socialization, yes?"_

"_Naturally." _ The Major crossed his legs, fingers intertwining on his lap, as the Doktor pulled up another seat at the site of the carnage.

"_Yes, right to business. I have an understanding that you are quite knowledgeable in the field of the occult?" _

"_Yes."_

"_Such extensive knowledge that it proved the existence of monsters among us, and that knowledge has isolated you to the point that you have been ex-pulsed from your internship with Dr. Reiter, as well as gotten you mocked and chastized?"_

"_Yes." _The Doktor grit his teeth.

"_And are you here, in this dirty basement laboratory because you are forbidden from working with others, due to your knowledge?"_

"_Y-Yes."_

"_Your knowledge may have given you pain in the past, but the Führer has recognized you, Herr Doktor. He wishes you, under my leadership, to embrace the occult for battle. Will you join me, Herr Doktor?"_

Avondale's heart swelled with pride. _Der Führer _wanted him, the outcast, on an operation? And the Major- the one who headed the order, had referred to him as _Herr Doktor, _the name for Paul Josef Goebbels, the Führer's right hand man himself? He bit his lip.

"_And may I ask, Doktor," _Montana continued, _"How exactly you got such knowledge?"_

The Doktor froze; pressure building up on his lower lip to the point where it may have burst.

"_Obviously," _the other man continued, smiling as he gestured to a bookshelf now filled with preserved body parts, but with encyclopedias, translated ancient texts, and even works of fiction, _"You are well read. However, that does not explain your works on, ah, vampires for example. Many of your discoveries are unheard of-" _The Doktor swallowed audibly- _"The Ghoul, as another example? I mean, with all due respect, no amount of torture could dye your victims that particular shade of purple." _The blond men directed their gazes to the cadavers, True, the skin was a disturbing shade of greyed purple, but...

"_What is your point, Major?" _An unfamiliar look gleamed in Dr. Napyeer's eyes.

"_How have you come in contact with a vampire, Herr Doktor?"_

"_I-"_

"_Even if you don't want to join me, I require research done by a vampire, or another doctor with access to one. As you have Ghouls, you obviously have a vampire, or at least a cheap imitation, which, mind you, is exactly what we are looking for."_

"_I-"_

"_An army of vampires...that is what _Der Führer_ seeks. An unstoppable force of inhumans, capable of annihilating all those who stand in our way. A war to end all wars. Do you agree?"_

"_Of course, mein Major."_

"_Then you will join us, and you shall be our Doktor – head of research, head of invention. Quite a task, Herr Doktor, but I am sure you are capable of managing it. Now, if you wouldn't mind telling me, for the good of our order, where is your vampire?"_

"_He...He is in the room, Major." _

"_Hm? Excellent." _Though the man was well aware of the truth. _"Ah, Herr Doktor, would you mind answering a question?"_

"_Of course, mein Major." _

"_I have always wondered this. Tell me, Doktor, the biting of a virgin of the opposite sex the only way for vampires to reproduce?"_

"_Well,"_ the Doktor began, seeming almost flustered, _" It is true that a newly blooded vampire is able to impregnate a woman, providing she is human, and a newly blooded vampire female can become impregnated, providing that she was blooded whilst on her menstrual cycle. Half-bloods, the production, are considered rare, and most likely killed at birth, being considered a vampiric taboo. Few live to adulthood, and if they do, they reach a certain age and simply stop aging. Countess Erezebet Bathory, for example, was a half-blood on her mother's side. This being said, halflings can be killed by mortal means, but are immune to aging, as previously stated. However, in order to keep this ability up, compensation is the regular drinking of human blood as well as the consumption of human food, though it is possible, it is said, that a half-blood can survive on blood alone. As a result of mixed-specie genes, they cannot breed, and there cannot be quarter- or three-quarter-vampires."_

"_What a marvel!" _The Major clapped his hands. _"Tell me, how do you get such information?"_

"_It is quite simple, really-"_

"Nein, Nein. _A better question. How many siblings do you have, Doktor?"_

"_None, mein Major. I am an only child."_

"_Ah, Herr Doktor, you are perfect for the job – my darling halfling."_

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_**If you haven't figured out, italics are when they're talking in German. Thanks for reading! I'm working on the new chapter now. Please Review~**_

_**~F.A.N.  
**_


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